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I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t think you know anything about my body.”
“I think you might have a mate-dependent illness,” he continues, unperturbed. “I think that’s why you reacted so strongly to me and Alden.”
“That sounds like a great way to convince an omega to let an alpha bite them.”
“Can I sit with you?”
I nod. He helps me sit up slowly. Nausea swells. Tyler snatches the waste bin and holds it out just in time, curling one arm around my shoulders to support me while I vomit.
“Sorry,” Tyler says, moving the bin aside. “That was my fault.” He sits on the couch and eases me down with my head on his lap.
“S’okay.” I turn my head toward his stomach. He smells so good, and he smells like Alden too.
There’s nothing sexual about this position. Tyler isn’t hard. He’s taking care of me.
“Better?” he asks.
“Mmhm.” I nuzzle closer, lifting his shirt, drawn by his scent—their scent—and pull back. “Sorry.”
He shushes me gently. “Stay. Rest.”
“But Alden…”
“Alden is on his way. And he would want me to help you feel better.”
A sense of calm falls over me. My chills fade. My brain fog clears slowly while he tells me his hypothesis.
“You don’t have to commit to a mate bond, now, or ever.” His hand pauses and he tenses. “But we think joining our pack could help regulate your heat cycles and decrease your symptoms.”
“Because we’re scent matches?” I ask, face still buried against his abs.
“You knew?”
“I guessed.”
The door behind me opens, and Alden enters. “You’re both very good at sacrificing your own happiness. Thank goodness I’m greedy.” He closes the door and crosses to us, dressed in a gray polo shirt that at first looks simple, until he draws nearer and I spot the intricate pattern making up the soft cotton.
He kneels beside the couch and strokes my hair, wafting his concentrated scent from his wrist. “Are you alright? I felt Tyler’s worry through our bond.” He glances at the waste bin. “You poor thing.” There’s a bite mark on Alden’s neck too, a little bigger than the one on Tyler’s.
“I’m okay.” I grimace. “I’m sorry for the way I left. And for the article.”
“Don’t be,” Alden says.
“You can be a little sorry,” Tyler says. “Alden was heartbroken when you disappeared.”
“Only a little heartbroken.” Alden whacks Tyler’s shin. “No guilt trips.”
“Ouch.”
“Your article was beautiful, and you brought us together,” Alden continues. “But something is still missing, just like when we built your nest.”
He layers his hand over Tyler’s, doubling the calming weight against my back.
“You,” they say simultaneously.
A shiver trails down my spine.
“Still not feeling well?” Tyler asks.
